


one night

by ProfessionalMess



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A little angst, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shops, College Student Keith (Voltron), College Student Lance (Voltron), First Meetings, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Sad Keith (Voltron), Soft hand holding, Soulmates, big soft idiot soulmates, but its implied - Freeform, coran owns a wack ass coffee shop, its not like a Thing, keith and lance go there, kinda sad vibes, sad thats not a tag, spiritual pining from afar, whoops i made this a soulmates thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25724806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessionalMess/pseuds/ProfessionalMess
Summary: Coran blissfully didn’t comment on Lance’s out of character visit, just greeted him with a wide grin and a wave. “Lance, my boy! What can I get for you?”That, actually, was a good question. For once in his life, Lance didn’t want to see the swirling whites and blues of his usual One Night In Bangkok. One Night’s were bright and beautiful and hopeful, and at the moment, that wasn’t how Lance felt. He felt…He felt like the sound of the door banging open behind him, like the sound of rapid footsteps and rustling fabric and a chair being pulled out too fast, too loud, all before Lance’s brain caught up with the situation and urged him to turn around. The sight of Dark Haired Hottie slumped over a table and desperately trying to hide his face and the slight shake of his shoulders was a bittersweet one. Something in Lance’s chest sang at the sight of him while something else broke, cracked, shattered. It was clear something had happened, and Hottie was desperately trying to hide it, and Lance felt a similar sort of desperation rise up in him as he turned back around and met Coran’s eyes. Against all preconceived odds they’d both found themselves here, and Lance wasn’t about to let an opportunity like that pass by.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 123





	one night

**Author's Note:**

> here's something ive had lying around forever and finally finished on a whim lol
> 
> inspired by the prompt "I see you at the coffee shop I go to every day and you always order the same thing so I ordered it and it's delicious and you look so sad" but i made them accidentally lowkey soulmates somehow

Despite Lance’s known impulsiveness, it was nice to have a little structure in his life. And since starting college in a completely new place made Lance’s already crazy life unpredictable at best and a total shit show at worst, he’d been quick to find habits in the small things, the things he could normally control no matter what.

This meant doing things like laying out his outfit and packing his bag every night before bed to reduce his get-ready time in the morning, indulging in a mandatory spa relaxation night every Wednesday no matter his work load, and stopping in for coffee every morning at the shop down the street, officially named Coran’s Craft Coffees but affectionately dubbed Creature’s by the locals. 

The nickname hadn’t taken long to catch on, apparently, and was used almost one hundred percent more often than the actual name of the shop, which Lance had learned the hard, out-of-towner way. It came from the creative and occasionally scary coffee-based concoctions that were constantly being made and added to the menu, and gave the whole shop a sort of theme that it definitely played into, whether intentional or not. It seemed as if every week Lance went in Coran had added something new to the menu, and had taken down or added some abstract art or decor piece. If you took an antique shop and mashed it together with a Hot Topic and a hipster art exhibit, that was Creature’s. 

And it seemed kind of ironic to Lance that a place as hectic and ever-changing as that could quickly become one of his favorite and most comforting spots in town, but luckily for him, Coran was not only an eccentric coffee maker with lots of ideas but also the man living off the success of said coffees. He was perfectly aware of how off putting some of his creations could be, no matter how delicious he knew they tasted. So along with the constant cycle of the specials menu where Coran threw up anything and everything he thought of, he also had the regular menu which featured a handful of tried and true Coran creations that kept the customers coming back for more, Lance included. 

His personal favorite was called One Night In Bangkok (the irony of the name was not lost on him, since despite his attraction he had never actually  _ banged _ a  _ cock) _ , and was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Every time Coran handed it to him over the counter, it looked like he was serving him a cup full of the ocean, straight from the source. Lance possessed what had to be hundreds of pictures of this same but different drink in his camera roll by now, because every morning the milk and Butterfly Pea Tea (trust him, he’d never heard of it either) mixed and danced together in a unique way that captured Lance’s attention and adoration without fail. The original version of the drink didn’t actually have any coffee in it (a little off-brand, Coran), but Lance always had Coran add a few shots of espresso, which added nice depth to the captivating blue and white swirls. 

And sure, Coran had a dozen other things on the menu that had the potential to be just as good if not better than One Night In Bangkok, but why did Lance need anything else when he had this beautiful drink to light up his life every morning?

Besides, Lance wasn’t the only one with a limited horizon, or a precise schedule, for that matter. For the start of every one of his weekdays, Lance’s morning went a little something like this: wake up, scroll on his phone for the allotted five minutes, get up and take a brief but effective shower, throw on his clothes, grab his bag, head out the door, stroll leisurely down the street to Creature’s, order his One Night, take a picture, sit in the tiny two person table in the corner next to the window that was practically reserved for him at this point, stare out the window and sip his drink while he waited for Dark Haired Hottie, pretend he wasn’t staring as Dark Haired Hottie ordered the same thing he always did (a Black Rifle with three extra shots of espresso and almond milk instead of regular because he was lactose intolerant), and then watch as Dark Haired Hottie turned tail and left again. It had quickly become arguably his favorite part of the week, and was likely the only reason he was able to get through his classes each day. 

Lance could even look past how disgusting the Black Rifle sounded (it had ash in it, for fuck’s sake) because of how absolutely stunning Dark Haired Hottie was. Admittedly, Lance had never seen much more of him than the back of his head and the occasional brief side profile, but that was more than enough. Lance was a firm believer in following first impressions, and although the two of them had never even gone so far as to make eye contact, Dark Haired Hottie had made an impression on Lance in a way that he couldn’t shake. 

He wouldn’t want to, even if he could. He was surrounded by so many people at almost every moment, so he couldn’t really say he was alone. But he was lonely sometimes, on his own in his apartment or sat by himself at his table or lost in the crowd of people that never really saw him. And maybe his and Dark Haired Hottie’s relationship would never be more than this, a one-sided staring contest as a way for Lance to pass the time, but he didn’t mind. Dark Haired Hottie was the only person in the entire town that Lance had ever felt a true connection with, as weird as it was. He didn’t even know his name, hadn’t even seen his whole face, and yet… when Lance thought about him for a long time or late enough at night, it always felt like they’d known each other for years. 

And really, Lance had no explanation for it. 

He had no explanation for the gut-wrenching feeling he got in his chest when he thought about walking into Creature’s and sitting down at his usual spot and waiting and waiting and waiting only to find that Dark Haired Hottie wasn’t coming, and wouldn’t be again. The coffee shop was Lance’s only connection to him, after all, and if he decided to stop coming, then… that was it. The fabricated connection Lance had with him would disappear, and then Lance wouldn’t even have his imagination to keep him company. 

Similarly, he had no explanation for why that sudden, unwelcome train of thought was enough to drive him to his feet, his coat on and his phone shoved into his pocket with his wallet and his feet halfway out the door before he even registered what he was doing, where he was going. 

He had no reason to believe Dark Haired Hottie would be at Creature’s this time of night. If his schedule was anything like Lance’s when he didn’t let partial mental meltdowns get the better of him, then he didn’t have the spare time to visit the coffee shop more than once in a day, nor the money nor the reason. A cup of coffee, especially from Coran, was enough to last him the entire day, as was the case for most people.

But his feet kept taking him forward, kept leading him down the quiet, empty sidewalk towards Creature’s warmly lit windows in the distance. It was less busy than it was in the morning, for obvious reasons, but it was still littered with the occasional patron, most tapping away at a laptop or lost in the pages of a book. Coran blissfully didn’t comment on Lance’s extremely out of character visit, just greeted him with a wide grin and a wave. “Lance, my boy! What can I get for you?” 

That, actually, was a good question. For once in his life, Lance didn’t want to see the swirling whites and blues of his usual One Night In Bangkok. His mind adamantly insisted that One Night’s were morning drinks, and seeing as it was almost eleven p.m. he couldn’t possibly have one. But even if that wasn’t the case, he wasn’t in the mood. One Night’s were bright and beautiful and hopeful, and at the moment, that wasn’t how Lance felt. He felt…

He felt like the sound of the door banging open behind him, like the sound of rapid footsteps and rustling fabric and a chair being pulled out too fast, too loud, all before Lance’s brain caught up with the situation and urged him to turn around. The sight of Dark Haired Hottie slumped over a table and desperately trying to hide his face and the slight shake of his shoulders was a bittersweet one. Something in Lance’s chest sang at the sight of him while something else broke, cracked, shattered. It was clear something had happened, and Hottie was desperately trying to hide it, and Lance felt a similar sort of desperation rise up in him as he turned back around and met Coran’s eyes. Against all preconceived odds they’d both found themselves here, and Lance wasn’t about to let an opportunity like that pass by. 

“I think I’m gonna try a Black Rifle. And, actually, make that two.”

“One with almond milk and three extra shots of espresso?” Coran asked knowingly, nodding in Dark Haired Hottie’s direction over Lance’s shoulder. Lance refused to let himself blush as he made a noise in the affirmative, his words momentarily failing him.

Coran smiled and nodded, grabbing two cups from the dispenser and scribbling over the outsides before setting them down and taking Lance’s card from him, swiping it quickly and handing it back. Lance desperately wanted to turn and look behind him, check on Dark Haired Hottie and make sure he was still there, but he resisted. Humans had uncanny abilities to know when they were being stared at, and Lance didn’t want to push his luck. He really needed the element of surprise on his side for this to work. 

So he focused instead on Coran as he made their drinks, watching with slight distaste as the ash was added in and it was mixed together, slowly but surely turning into a dark, matte black liquid. It looked like the last thing Lance wanted to put inside his body, but he gratefully accepted both cups from Coran when they were done and turned, taking a deep breath and making his way over to Dark Haired Hottie’s table near the back. 

He’d chosen the spot about as far away from all other people as he could get, which wasn’t much of a surprise. The visible shake of his shoulders from earlier had disappeared, but if Lance watched close enough he could still see a slight tremble, a tenseness that he wanted nothing more than to work out and slowly soothe away. He didn’t bother to announce his presence as he got closer, figuring walking right up to him and sitting down at his table uninvited was announcement enough. 

He sat the milk free Black Rifle in front of Dark Haired Hottie before sitting down across from him, setting his own down and refraining from taking a drink (entirely because he was being polite and not at all because he was afraid to try it). Hottie looked up quickly with a startled look, wiping at his eyes quickly with his over-sized sleeves as if it could hide his entrance or his wet eyelashes and the red around his eyes that stayed even after the tears were gone.

Seeing the entirety of his face for the first time was like stumbling across a piece of a puzzle he was sure he’d lost and would never be able to find. Whatever connection Lance had felt to him before felt ten times stronger now, like there was a line between them that kept tugging him forward, begging him to reach out and cup this attractive stranger’s face and whisper soft words to him until the devastated look on his face he was doing his best to cover and hide was gone for good, not just pushed away for later. 

Looking at Dark Haired Hottie was a lot like looking in a mirror. Lance was no stranger to pain or sadness or loneliness so heavy it felt like it was crushing you from the inside out, and he could see it reflected back to him in the lines of the other man’s face, even as he tried to cover its tracks. 

“Is this seat taken?” Lance asked gently, his voice soft as he gestured vaguely to where he was sitting. 

“U-Um… no,” Hottie said, giving Lance a small shake of his head as he hesitantly reached out towards the Black Rifle Lance had set within his reach. “Is this for me?”

“Yeah,” Lance said, nodding and giving him an encouraging smile. “I see you in here a lot, and you always walk out carrying one of those. And with the way you came in here… I figured you could use a little pick me up.”

“Sorry about that,” Hottie mumbled, his cheeks pinking a little as he looked down at the surface of the table. “And thank you, that’s really kind, but um—”

“Don’t worry, I got it how you like it,” Lance said, cutting him off. “Three extra shots of espresso and almond milk instead of regular because you’re lactose intolerant.”

“How do you know all that?” Hottie asked warily, giving Lance a look. 

“Like I said, I see you in here a lot. Every morning, to be exact. I normally sit up there,” he paused to point at his usual table, situated almost as close to the checkout counter as he could get, “so I overhear a lot more than I mean to. More than I even want to, usually. Coran attracts some chatty ones.”

“Oh,” Hottie said eloquently, reaching out for his drink and taking a small sip. Lance tried to hold back his grimace as he watched, still not sure. He knew he paid for it and all, but… how the hell was that good? “Well, thank you.”

“Anytime,” Lance said, offering him a smile. “The name’s Lance.”

“Keith,” Dark Haired Hottie said in return, and damn if that didn’t suit him. 

“Keith,” Lance repeated, his smile a little bigger this time, harder to control. “It’s nice to meet you, Keith. Now, I’ve got two questions for you.”

“Shoot,” Keith said, his shoulders relaxing the tiniest bit as he sat back in his chair, crossing his legs and pulling his drink off the table to hold as he drank. 

“What’s that taste like?” he asked, nodding to the black drinks between them. “I’m not convinced that I ever wanna put it in my mouth.” 

Lance earned a tiny smile from that, the corners of his lips turned up just slightly as he answered. “It tastes like… coffee with coconut creamer. Not too bad, really. But if I’m being honest… I mostly get it because it’s black.”

Lance laughed at that, shaking his head a little as he wrapped his hand around his own cup, giving it a once over. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. But I guess… I should try this.” Keith watched silently as Lance picked up the drink and put it to his lips, taking a small, hesitant sip. He paused as he registered the taste, slowly coming to terms with how fucking… amazing it was. “Holy shit, dude. Holy shit! This is amazing! No wonder you drink this every day.”

Keith gave him a smile just a little bigger than his last, nodding. “Yeah, I like it.” Lance nodded and took another drink, a lot bigger than his last, a pleased sigh leaving his lips as he set his drink back down. 

“Me, too. Now, for my second question.” Keith gave a small nod as permission to continue, taking another drink from his own cup as he waited. “Are you okay?” 

Keith wasn’t expecting the question at all if his surprised choke was anything to go by, his eyes wide as he struggled to swallow the liquid in his mouth. Lance grimaced and gave him an apologetic smile, waiting patiently as he coughed to clear his throat. 

“I—Um, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Keith said after a moment, not meeting Lance’s eyes as he nodded.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Lance told him, watching as he played with his fingers in his lap, still steadily looking away from him. “And you don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to. I know we just met and all, and I just kind of came over here and sat down and started talking to you, and it’s probably, I dunno, super weird of me to do. I get that, I promise I do. Just… is there anything I can do to help?”

“You already have,” Keith said after a pause, gently shrugging his shoulders and bringing a hand up to nudge at his drink cup on the table. “Just the fact that you took the time out of your day to… to do something nice for me and talk to me… it means a lot. People don’t normally do things like that.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while, really,” Lance said, playing with the cardboard sleeve around his cup. “Well, not meaning to, exactly, just—I see you in here all the time and I’ve always thought you looked really interesting and cool and like exactly the kind of person that’d come to this place and… I guess I just couldn’t stand seeing you coming in here looking so sad.”

“I got kicked out of school,” Keith said, shrugging his shoulders again as if it didn’t bother him, despite the way his face twisted with the words. “They didn’t even tell me, they told my golden boy brother and made him deliver the news. I guess I just got upset and wanted to run away for a little and ended up here. I don’t normally come here this late, but… I guess I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“I don’t normally come this late, either,” Lance said, sensing a line of questioning on what had happened to get him kicked out would be ill-received. “I came here looking for you, actually. God, I sound like a creep. I swear I’m not trying to be creepy or anything, it’s not like that. I didn’t even think you’d be here, really. I was just thinking about you and—fuck, that doesn’t sound any better. Sorry. I just… had a feeling,” he finished lamely, giving a lazy shrug of his shoulders as if that could explain what his words couldn’t. Keith gave him a strange, indecipherable look over the top of his cup as he took a drink, his mouth twisting at the corner as if he were amused or confused or maybe a little pissed off. 

Lance sat in silence and fidgeted with his cup as he waited for Keith’s response, something sour twisting in his stomach as he thought of every negative reaction he could possibly get right now and which would be the worst. Keith eventually set his cup back on the surface of the table, his eyes drifting along the art on the wall behind Lance as he spoke.

“I’ve seen you,” he said, something thoughtful and hesitant about his tone like he hadn’t quite decided what he was going to say even as he said it. “Probably all the times you’ve seen me. I can see you through the window every morning when I come in, and the first time I saw you sitting there it was like… like I had figured out something, even though I didn’t know what it was I had learned. I thought… I thought it was strange how drawn to you I was, and I tried to just forget about it, I guess. But it’s hard to come in and not just... stare at you the whole time. And it’s not even just the way you look, although you do look good. It’s just… something about the way you feel. That’s part of the reason I came here tonight, like you said. I was thinking about you and I just… had a feeling.”

“It feels like… like we have some sort of connection. Like we’ve known each other for years. Is that how it feels for you?” Lance asked, a little breathless at the revelation that Keith felt it too, that it wasn’t just some weird obsession he’d created for himself after too long spent stuck inside his own head.

Keith nodded as he took another drink, his expression twisted into some complicated emotion Lance couldn’t place. “It’s like… everything begins and ends with you. I don’t know how to explain it.” Keith said quietly after the silence had stretched and stretched, the coffee shop quieting around them as if making room for Keith’s whispered words. Lance’s heart stuttered in his chest as something different settled into place, something he didn’t have words for. Whatever this was, destiny or fate or karma or chance or pure fucking luck, it was here. It was theirs, this strange feeling they shared, and Lance didn’t want it to go to waste. 

“Give me your phone,” Lance said breathlessly, leaning across the table and holding out his hand.

“What?” Keith asked, clearly startled by the request. It probably wasn’t exactly what he’d been expecting. 

“Give me your phone,” Lance said again, wiggling his fingers for emphasis. Keith gave him a look but did as he asked, digging his phone from his pocket and dropping it into Lance’s palm. Lance took it and entered his contact information into Keith’s phone, sending himself a text so he’d have his number for later. 

“What did you do?” Keith asked as Lance passed it back to him.

“I just put my number in,” Lance said, giving him a reassuring smile. “I don’t want to have to rely on chance meetings at a coffee shop. I want to be able to talk to you whenever I want. It feels like I already know everything about you, but I don’t, really. I wanna change that.”

“Okay,” Keith said, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he drained the rest of his coffee and fidgeted hesitantly with the now empty cup. “I should probably head back home. I’ve been gone for awhile, and Shiro will be worried about me.” 

It was late, a little past midnight, but Lance felt more energized now than he had in weeks. He wanted to stay and talk to Keith forever, but he knew the later he stayed the more he’d hate himself in the morning. So he stood and nodded, finishing the rest of his drink and throwing away their cups before walking with Keith to the door. They hesitated on the sidewalk just outside, neither of them wanting to be the first to leave despite knowing they had to. Lance didn’t have any idea what to say. He was feeling too much at once and he could make sense of very little of it, and from the look on Keith’s face he was much the same. 

So Lance simply reached out and took Keith’s hand, giving it a soft squeeze. Keith looked up at him and Lance gave him a smile, and the smile he got in return was everything he’d wanted to see on Keith’s face all evening. The devastation from before was gone, leaving behind nothing but gentle happiness that looked so beautiful under the soft, warm light filtering out from inside the shop. 

It was almost painful to drop his hand and step away with a soft promise to text him later but he eventually managed it, walking a few feet away before turning and looking behind him, watching Keith sling his leg over the seat of a bike and ride away. His slow, meandering pace meant the walk home was nearly twice as long as the walk to get there, but it was worth having the time to just think, and let himself smile like a damn fool into the darkness where no one else could see. 

Tonight was the start of something new, and although Lance had no idea what was in store for him or what any of it meant, he couldn’t deny how right it felt to finally understand the way he’d been feeling, and that he was always meant to find that dark haired hottie in the coffee shop. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! i hope u enjoyed. dont be afraid to leave kudos or comment!!!


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